


One Day You Were Young

by NICEISME



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Crack, Cute, De-Aged Newt, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Humor, Idiots in Love, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating May Change, Smitten Graves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-15
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-24 16:50:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9771209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NICEISME/pseuds/NICEISME
Summary: “No, Newt! You can’t put that in your mouth. Oh god, spit it out, Newt! No, not the wand-.” Tina was trying to pull Newt’s own wand from the little boy mouth.“-ha ha, I saw he put it in his mouth all the time, he will be fine, Goldstein.” O’Brien, you idiot! He wasn’t a grown wizard right now, for fuck’s sake!Or: How Newt was an actual little shit in his younger days, and Graves..., Graves had no idea what he had done to deserve this.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was writing my soulmate AU when this idea struck me, it was both a bliss and a pain.  
> Anyway, this was supposed to be one shot. Well, things get out of hand pretty easily, do they not?  
> But! Rest assured, this won't take too long. Perhaps?
> 
> English is still not my first language.  
> Most of the characters aren't mine, but all the errors are.
> 
> Thank you so much, love.

_Graves hated children._  
  
Just think about those sticky fingers and all the grimes on their faces, wailing and crying for something they didn’t need. Running around like a little maniac they actually were, destroying everything in their paths as well, paths like some desks or some suit jacket, his favorite three pieces suit had been beyond repaired at the Christmas reunion three years ago.  
  
Horror, kids were horror.  
  
_And Newt, Newt was a great ball of energy._  
  
Newton Artemis Fido Scamander, a magizoologist who managed to outrun some Abraxan and still had strength enough to wrestle with an erumpent, who could stay awake three days in a row with them on the smuggling case and spend another couple of hours on nursing the beasts they saved when everyone collapsed on themselves over his case.  
  
So who gave the right for this scum to create a de-aged potion? Graves would kill them when he finished torturing said scum.  
  
_Or after he dealt with a three years old Newt._  
  
Newt hadn’t been supposed to go with them in the first place, but ‘-found some Unicorn hair in the-.’ did it, fucking O’Brien and his fucking manipulative way of saying. Well, if you thought there would be no scientist in the magical world, you were wrong. The scumbag was tingling with all the stuff he stole, like unicorn hair, mooncalf milk (thank god, Newt hadn’t known about this.), and a muggle baby powder (scientist, remember?) when two aurors and a magizoologist stormed in the place. They were fast but not fast enough when the scum threw the potion inside a flask on his hand toward Graves, his wand was ready to inflict it, but no, Newt had to lend his no self-preservation body as his shield.  
  
The scumbag was _barely alive_ when they arrived back at the Woolworth building.  
  
“No, Newt! You can’t put that in your mouth. Oh god, spit it out, Newt! No, not the wand-.” Tina was trying to pull Newt’s own wand from the little boy mouth.  
  
“-ha ha, I saw he put it in his mouth all the time, he will be fine, Goldstein.” O’Brien, you idiot! He wasn’t a grown wizard right now, for fuck’s sake!  
  
At the moment, the usual gloomy atmosphere of the department of Magical Law Enforcement was replaced by both cooings and very very soft scowling toward the little boy on Tina’s desk. For some reasons (reasons like, how Newt turned from adorable red head to irresistible force of cuteness with those chubby freckled cheeks and enormous green eyes) Graves’ aurors had turned into a pack of a mother hen, fussing over the little ball of sunshine. It seemed like Graves was the only one who kept the distance, because first of all; he didn’t think he could stand his Newt in a devil form, second of all; Newt’s devil form would destroy his intimidating persona for certain and that he could barely stand it as well.  
  
“No! Newt, you can’t eat Pickett, he’s your friend. Aww…honey, I’m sorry. Please don’t cry, please…”  
  
_Merlin gave him strength._  
  
Graves and everyone braced themselves for a coming scream…  
  
They got a cute giggle instead.  
  
Wait, _what?_  
  
In curiosity, Graves walked to the group of his minions and his de-aged magizoologist (yes, his; you read it right.) most of them stepped away from him, some of the braves, like Fontaine and Tina, stood their ground along with idiots like O’Brien and Shang. He peered down at the laughing boy on Tina desk who was grabbing at a poor bowtruckle in his curls, Graves cleared his throat softly.  
  
_Sweet Mercy Lewis helped him._  
  
Was that even legal to have thoes huge eyes? Graves might need to rewrite the law. Oh Merlin, those freckled cheeks, and those small dimples; little Newt was a super weapon, he could kill Grindelwald with just that mischievous smile, but the fucking pineapple would die too happily, so no; this Newt (or any version of him.) should not be near that madmage.  
  
Graves was biting inside of his cheek to suppress a whimper when two small hands were reaching up to him, green eyes pleading; he knew they were fake, _but still_.  
  
Was Merlin fucking with him? What had he done to deserve this? _No one had done anything to deserve this._  
  
“How long did that scu– um, I mean, idi– no, that scientist say the duration of the potion, Goldstein?” No vulgarity, Graves. And Newt, would you stop with grabby fingers, yes; it was cute; but no, he wouldn't lift you.  
  
“Twenty-four hours at least, thirty at maximum, sir.”  
  
“Should we floo-called Mr. Scamander, I mean, the older one; his brother?” –Auror Fontaine asked without her cigarettes for the first time.  
  
Newt managed to grab his tie and yanked it toward himself with a surprisingly strong power. Made Graves stumbled over him, he caught himself from crushing the boy, with his hands on the edge of the desk.  
  
“Look! Scorpion!”  
  
_Right_ , his pin; he wasn't astonished that Newt could speak the word right, because; _animals_ , of course.  
  
“Newt…you are hurting him, darling.” – He was not your darling, O’Brien.  
  
“Oh no, I’m sorry. Mister.” Newt said but didn't let go. How come they’ve never known Newt was such a naughty boy.  
  
“It's Percival.” Graves wandlessly unclipped his brooches and floated them into his own hand, muttered a silent cushion spell at the needle part, then he put them into Newt’s hand. “Do you want to keep them?” He asked.  
  
“ _Perciwhat_ – yes. Perciwhat, I want to keep them, but what about you? They're two of them, you can have one, I will have one. _We're squirrel_.” A naughty boy, but always had a golden heart.  
  
That brought many suppressed chuckles from his aurors, not so suppressed ones from Tina and O’Brien.  
  
“I think you mean ‘square’, Newt. It's not Perciwhat, it's Percival.” Seriously, he could pronounce the word scorpion like an afterthought, but this…?  
  
“Perciwow?”  
  
“Percival.”  
  
“Percivalve?”  
  
“Per-civ-al.” If you weren't this adorable, Newt...  
  
“Percy…I will call you Percy. I think I got that part right.”  
  
Mercy Lewis.  
  
“Sir? The floo-called?” Fontaine repeated her question.  
  
Graves thought about the severity of their situation when he looked at little Newt and saw the infamous niffler tried to steal the shiny scorpion. But before he could do anything about it, Newt whipped his head to the side and stared at the small beast with wide eyes and a gaping mouth.  
  
It seemed like even a Niffler had no tolerance for Newt’s cuteness as well because it started pulling golden coins and…were those real diamonds? from its pouch toward Newt like an offering.  
  
They were all doomed.  
  
And did Fontaine ask him something?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You, what are you guys? Amazing human beings, I suppose.  
> I and this cute little fic of mine (and Newt in his little shit version) want to thank you all for the all the love, comments, and kudos.
> 
> As the niffler always says..."Treat yourself."  
> Do enjoy the second chapter
> 
> Thank you :)

If you thought Newt was enough trouble maker with his beasts and all his glorious adulthood, you were wrong. (Like when you thought that science wasn't a thing in wizardry world.)  
  
When Graves managed to unwind the small hands from his tie with the scorpion bribe that seemed to be ignored by all the rubies and shiny miniature of various kinds of animals from niffler pouch (Graves certainly did not feel jealous, mind you.), he straightened his back and took in the little boy’s state.  
  
Merlin forbade the picture he made…  
  
With his much smaller body, Newt usual beige suit and trousers were no longer fitted him; he dressed in the transfigured baby boy outfit, a courtesy of the younger Goldstein. A white short sleeve shirt and a soft brown overall finished with the only thing from his grown-up dress, a black bowtie. But the thing that made Graves bite back his own whimpers (again.) was _the famous blue coat_ , still huge and soft; tangled around this little ball of sunshine like an enormous blanket.  
  
Merlin was fucking with him. Graves was damn sure.  
  
“Queenie didn't want to ruin his coat.”  
  
So she decided to ruin Graves instead, right?  
  
But before he could gather his mind back together to reply to Tina, he saw the notorious leather case levitated itself toward the little boy who was still cuddling with, for the first time, a willing niffler. For a minute there, Graves thought Newt was so powerful and had no control over his magic when he was this young, just then, Newt grabbed at the thin air and yanked his small fist down, the demiguise lost its camouflage and let out a squeak.  
  
So Newt could see through an invisible beast when he was three years old, why Graves wasn't surprised at all.  
  
Dougal started talking to Newt and tried to open the case. The boy looked adorably confused but very much encouraged.  
  
_Hell no._  
  
Graves wandlessly floated the case toward himself from a protesting demiguise that turned invisible again and the little Newt who had small pools of tear forming in the pair of huge green eyes.  
  
_Hell fucking no._  
  
“Goldstein, keep this away from him; will you?” Tina seemed very reluctant to take the case from his hand.  
  
Newt’s mouth started quivering.  
  
“Goldstein…” _please._  
  
Newt let out a tiny hiccup.  
  
“Sir, I don't think I–.”  
  
Newt inhaled a long breath.  
  
“Tina…”  
  
Newt exhaled through his running nose.  
  
“Mr. Graves…I can't, I–.”  
  
Newt’s tears began to drop…  
  
“Okay. Fine!” Graves gritted out and lifted Newt up in his right arm, the left one still holding the troubling case; he wandlessly levitated and tucked the blue coat over the boy like a bundle of menace he actually was.  
  
“If you're going in this case, you're going with me; not by yourself, alright?”  
  
Newt smiled brighter than the sun like he wasn't about to cry his eyes out a second ago.  
  
“Okay, Percy.”  
  
_Menace_ , _a bundle of menace._  
  


* * *

  
“Sit here and don't wonder around.” Graves deposited Newt on his usual seat in his office, a soft cushion with a horrifying shade of purple; one of Newt’s baby changed its color, accidentally; of course. It was the softest and stood close to his working desk, it was always there; Graves didn't move it.  
  
Actually, he did move it. _Just a smidge_.  
  
Graves put the case under his desk and walked over to the cabinet in the corner of the room. “Um…you hungry? What do you eat– is it milk? Banana? Fuc– ahem, I don't have a banana, though. _What the hell are you saying, Graves…_ ” the last part he muttered to himself quietly. Graves thought about sneaking a few drop of fire whiskey in his coffee. Or Newt’s milk. Fuck no, it could kill the boy. But a few might put him to sleep…You bastard, he was just a boy and that cute throat would burn, Graves you horrible person.  
  
He dropped a few sip in his own coffee anyway.  
  
Graves arranged a couple of cookies on the plate, white chocolate chip, Newt’s favorite. A lot of things in his office was here for _this reason_ lately. Like thirteen kinds of tea beside his coffee grain or Lewis know how many of disgusting things as snacks for the man’s beasts. He walked to the blue bundle and almost dropped a glass of milk and the plate he was holding when he couldn't see the fluffy curls under said bundle.  
  
‘Don't wonder around.’ _You asked him too much._  
  
Graves groaned an irritating sound when he saw the boy crawled under his desk, tried to reach for the case.  
  
“Newt!”  
  
The boy almost banged his head on the wooden desk, an innocent expression on his face when he said. “I saw a little green man jumped down and–and…I thought you said don't wonder around.”  
  
His face must do the trick because Newt started smiling sheepishly.  
  
“Out you come, now.”  
  
Newt crawled out slowly and stood up straight, his small hands clasped behind his back.  
  
“Percy…” The little boy squirming on the spot, still; he face didn't look guilty at all.  
  
Graves didn't say anything but put down the milk and the cookies on his desk and lifted the little boy up in his arms again. (No, he didn't get addicted.) Newt held onto his neck immediately and gave him another mischievous smile. Graves rolled his eyes in exasperation and walked them both out of his office.  
  
“Cancel all my appointments for today, Miss Watson.” Graves told his secretary whose eyes are bugging out at them.  
  
What? He knew how to hold children alright. He just hated them, but this was Newt.  
  
Graves definitely did not hate him, quite a _contrary_ actually.  
  
Just when he about to get back inside the office, a familiar owl flew toward them with a scandalous red parchment in its beak.  
  
_Shit._  
  
Graves horridly opened his office door and closed it in the face of that owl, but _ho boy_ …how it wasn't his day.  
  
A red howler slipped under his office door and shifted itself into an angry mouth, Graves covered both of his hands over Newt’s ears almost too late…  
  
“ **YOU IDIOTIC GRAVES! HOW DARE YOU LET MY PRECIOUS LITTLE BROTHER TOOK THE POTION FOR YOU! I’M ON MY WAY TO CURSE YOUR SORRY ARSE FROM TODAY TO SUNDAY AND IT’S JUST MONDAY! AND DON’T YOU DARE HIDE BEHIND NEWT’S CUTENESS, NO MATTER HOW IRRESISTIBLE IT IS, I WILL HEX YOU TO NEXT SUNDAY IF YOU DO! AND READ HIM THE TALE OF BEEDLE THE BARD IF HE FEELS RESTLESS AND FINDS A STUFFED HIPPOGRIFF FOR HIM TO CUDDLE. JUST SO YOU WAIT, GRAVES.** ”  
  
The paper mouth burst into small flames that transformed into a wildflower clown and float onto Newt’s head between his palms.  
  
“It's Theseus! Percy! He always makes this for me!”  
  
Yes, it was Theseus.  
  
_Who was going to kill him_.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone asked me about bringing Theseus so...  
> Somehow, Fontaine took the matter into her own hands without Graves' conscience.  
> and again, somehow; Theseus' owl could fly really fast.
> 
> Or: Just ignore my attempt in rushing things as smoothly as I can.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and Comments are much appreciated.  
> Again, thank you for reading this.
> 
> :)


End file.
